


You and Me Against The End of Reality

by IWriteSinsANDTragediesToo



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Drama, Eventual Smut?, F/F, F/M, Fluff, He loves and cares about his friends so much, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, No beta we die like my girl almost did, Renathal is trying his best and deserves a break, Romance, So does Theotar, The Accuser and The Curator deserve more love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteSinsANDTragediesToo/pseuds/IWriteSinsANDTragediesToo
Summary: A near death experience during a routine mission into the Maw puts many things into perspective for both the Maw Walker and Prince Renathal, including their feelings for one another.
Relationships: Renathal & Theotar the Mad Duke, Renathal (Warcraft)/Maw Walker, Renathal (Warcraft)/Original Female Character(s), The Accuser | Harriet of the Crimson Shade/The Curator | The Harvester of Avarice
Comments: 35
Kudos: 38





	1. Close Call

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, welcome to the first FanFiction I've written in over six years! This is based on an especially frustrating run I had in the Maw with my blood elf Hunter where everything that could have possibly gone wrong most definitely did lol. I don't understand the logic of hearthstones working while in the Maw, but I found out they do during this trip, and since it's bound to Sinfall...The idea for this story came to fruition. Also does anyone else have an issue with their Cypher of Relocation disappearing from their bag randomly and having to constantly purchase new ones from Ve'nari? I swear she's doing it on purpose.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I plan on writing more chapters for this if people seem to enjoy it, the Accuser and Theotar should be making an appearance in the next chapter! Let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

_Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!_

Lithedia cursed herself, every single damned Mawsworn in this godforsaken hellscape, and _especially_ the Jailer as she willed her legs to drive her forward as fast as was physically possible in her current state...And she wasn’t faring well.

This was supposed to be a simple, routine trip into the Maw, just a quick get in and get out situation. All she had planned to do was rescue more poor souls suffering undeserved fates and bring them back to Tenaval, which was something so routine at this point that she hardly thought anything of it. Sure, she never enjoyed any trip she had to take into the Maw, but it was normally a relatively quick experience unless Bolvar sent her on mission into Torghast...Which she always dreaded regardless of the reason behind it.

But of course, when she dove head first into the Maw and arrived in Ve’nari’s refuge this time around, the broker had another “business proposition” for her, which again, as _usual_ , was to off some other high ranking Mawsworn that was getting just a little too close to figuring out Ve’nari’s location and to destroy misery conduits that were only enhancing the suffering of the poor souls already tortured beyond imagination by the Jailer and his forces. Nothing that she hasn’t been able to handle on multiple prior occasions.

This time, however, it seems she may have gotten a little too comfortable and let down her guard a little too much.

Everything was going well at the start, she managed to save fifteen souls not long after setting out with her newly upgraded soulkeeper, using her Hunter ability to camouflage herself and blend into the surroundings to avoid a majority of the Mawsworn’s detection. She had only been in the Maw for a short while before she already began to make her way deeper into the hellscape, keeping a look out for the Mawsworn commander and misery conduits Ve’nari had been concerned about.

Unfortunately, with how smoothly rescuing the trapped souls had gone and how routine such an excursion felt, she let her normally heightened senses honed over years as Huntmaster slack and her mind wander as she found herself thinking of a certain Venthyr prince.

He was all she could think of as of late, so much so that it had begun to get her into trouble. His soothing voice, his powerful yet gentle presence, his beautiful, long white hair that she so desperately wanted to run her fingers through, because by the Gods it looked so _soft_...And how intense, burning Amber would meet soft, mellow green during Ember Courts as he would occasionally catch her gaze from across the way, eyes locking for a short moment before she would hastily turn her head away in embarrassment, praying he couldn’t see how her cheeks would flare a deep red that rivaled her hair every time. She would always find herself distracted by him as she attended to the guests, often watching the Prince enjoy himself with what she was sure was an expression of not-so-subtle adoration...Which she would promptly receive a few not-so gentle smacks to the head for from the Accuser, along with a stern reminder to focus on the task at hand and that it was rude to stare, each time she got caught in the act.

As if the Accuser wasn’t guilty of wearing that exact same expression of pure adoration on her own features whenever she was in the Curator’s presence, but she digressed.

Despite the courts requiring an extreme amount of work and time on her part that was often hard to balance with the seemingly never ending amount of missions she was expected to complete, just getting the chance to see him in his natural element, mingling among and interacting with his people with a natural charisma, smiling and laughing, and for at least a brief moment in time, at ease, was more than worth all the trouble and a reward for her efforts in itself.

But nothing quite got to her more than the way he seemed to take on an _infuriatingly_ flirtatious tone with her every time he would greet her, wish her luck, or praise her for a job well done after returning from a successful mission. It absolutely drove her insane trying to figure out if that was how he was with everyone or...

With her thoughts occupied, she hadn’t been actively paying attention to how long she had been camouflaged for. She found herself snapping back to reality just as the last of the effect was wearing off and a loud, monstrous roar shattered the previously oppressive silence that caused her hair to stand on end in fear, left her ears ringing, and adrenaline coursing through her as she returned to her full alertness. She had no where near enough time to duck for cover in advance, she was fully out in the open and had already caught the attention of one of the Mawsworn elites.

Defeating it wasn’t too difficult, but by bringing about its end, it also brought about the end of any hopes Lithedia had for a smooth trip. The Soulseekers were on her like flies after that, able to see right through any further attempts at camouflage she made in the hopes of avoiding any increasing trouble. With each enemy that fell to her arrows, the Jailer’s fury grew, and before she even managed to track down the damned commander and misery conduits the broker had tasked her to eliminate, she had the towers assaulting her with Soul Surges and assassins on her ass every time she took a damned breath.

Regardless, she pressed on, and even chained to the floor, an assassin assaulting her from behind, and the targeted Mawsworn commander she had finally managed to corner attacking from the front, she still managed to emerge from the chaos victorious. The blood elf wiped the sweat from her brow, the blood from her nose, and severed the chains binding her before finally moving on to her last task. Then she could collect the totally worth it reward from Ve’nari for all the trouble she has gone through and _finally_ go back home to Sinfall and put this hell behind her for at least a week.

She absentmindedly wondered, as she finally found an opportunity to blend back into the safety of the shadows during a brief respite from the fighting, when she began to consider Sinfall as her home.

Without much more additional trouble now that she could once again hide among the darkness and ensuring to keep her full attention on the task at hand this time, she finally located the southern misery conduit, making quick work of destroying it until only pieces remained.

Unfortunately, the action countered and destroyed her camouflage and as her luck was especially unfortunate today, this had yet another assassin descending upon her within seconds. She scowled, drawing Thas’dorah from its place on her back and took careful aim, confident she could take out this nuisance with a single shot. However, with her full attention on the incoming threat charging at her from her right, she just barely managed to catch a glimpse of a winged abductor out of the corner of her eye, diving straight for her from above at an alarming speed.

She cursed loudly, jumping back in the nick of time, enough to avoid a severe blow but still found herself getting knocked back by the sheer force of the impact as the Forsworn smashed into the ground, and a surprisingly powerful wing slammed into her stomach. As she roughly collided with the floor and the wind is knocked out of her for a second time in under three seconds time, she realized that she might be in serious trouble.

She managed to force herself back onto her feet with a great deal of effort and successfully landed a few decently aimed shots all things considered, taking out what felt like the dozenth assassin of the day with little issue, but her arrows didn’t seem to be doing as much against the fallen Ascended, and she didn’t have enough energy to recast her more damaging abilities. She took hit after damaging hit herself from blades, claws, and wings and yet was unable to deal much damage in return.

She was fighting a losing battle.

She disengaged to gain some distance between herself and the enemy just as another blow almost crashed down onto her, and she racked her brain for ideas to handle the problem she found herself in, but she could only think of one that _might_ result in her keeping her life and also completing the mission at hand.

Run.

She fired a concussive shot to at least slow the winged bastard down, tapping into her aspect of the cheetah ability, and took off sprinting in the direction of the northern misery conduit, hoping that would be enough to put some distance between her and it in order to complete her objective. She didn’t dare to look back, focusing ahead of her for any sign of her target instead of the bruises and gashes that littered her body and letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as it came into view. She was almost there, almost _free_ , all she had to do was fire a few shots into the damned thing and then-

Pain erupted from her side as she was slammed into by a Mawsworn soldiers weapon that she had failed to notice approach in her hyperfixation on the goal and the desperation to leave, knocking her to the ground after sending her flying a good few feet away from the conduit. She struggled to regain her breath from the harsh impact, choking out a few coughs which only intensified the excruciating pain that blossomed from her most definitely broken ribs. Through rising tears, she could see she was almost within striking distance of the conduit, and exhilaration rushed through her as sheer determination to carry out her mission had her stumbling back onto her feet.

With sloppy dodges inhibited by pain, she managed to barely avoid the Mawsworn’s next strike which allowed her just enough of an opportunity to close the minimum distance required for her to attack the final conduit. She forced her hands to steady themselves as much as physically possible, ignoring her ribs screaming at the motion of her drawing back the string of her bow, and fired.

The conduit shattered into a useless pile of crumbling stone.

The knowledge that her final mission was finally complete offered no relief in the face of the hopeless situation she found herself facing. Multiple Mawsworn soldiers surrounded her, the winged abductor sent to dispose of her had since caught up with her with fully recovered movement speed and apparently brought two other winged friends along for the ride, and she was badly injured with the effects of exhilaration wearing off and the pain settling in.

She was so _fucked_.

She managed to remove the soldier that blocked her path back towards the refuge with a single arrow and made a break for it in that direction, gripping her side and feeling her blood seep through her fingers.

Which brings us back to the present, Lithedia mentally cursing herself, every single damned Mawsworn in this godforsaken hellscape, and _especially_ the Jailer as she wills her legs to drive her forward as fast as was physically possible despite her injuries.

She knows she is facing immediate extermination. The pain and strain of her injuries is increasing by the second, taking an incredible toll on her body and stamina. Her steps are growing slower, her legs feeling heavy as if made of lead and yet like jelly all at once, no longer seeming to want to obey her screaming internal dialogue to KEEP RUNNING. Blood continues to slowly leak from injury on her side, and she vaguely registers the feeling of something wet trickling down her forehead and her chin as well. Her mouth tastes bitter with a strong metallic tang, and she almost gags.

Darkness encroaches on the edges of her vision and she weakly fumbles with the buckle on her bag, all the while still forcing her legs to propel her forward towards safety, though the growling and screeching of the Mawsworn pursuing her are frighteningly close behind her.

If she could just find the Cypher of Relocation Ve’nari gave her, she could at least make it back to the refuge, and she would at least be hidden from the prying eyes of the Jailer...

She finally manages to get the stupid thing open, shoving her hand into the pocket where the cypher should be safely stored, and-

_No._

_No no no no!_

Her hand meets nothing, the pocket empty.

Dread sits heavy in her stomach and a wave of nausea washes over her as death itself seems to close in around her, the Jailer’s chilling voice ringing out across the Maw.

_“The end is upon you.”_

She only subconsciously registers herself tripping on something in her path as her feet begin to drag from exhaustion, using the last of her strength to cast Door of Shadows in the hopes of putting even just a few extra feet between her and her rapidly approaching end, her body hitting the ground with a hard thud after rematerializing a yard or so away that only comes with more excruciating pain.

She lies there limply, barely conscious enough to distantly hope that perhaps if she just feigned death, maybe they would leave her be.

Or, more likely, haul her, dead or alive, to Torghast and her soul will end up becoming a personal prisoner of the Jailer and suffer an eternity of unimaginable horrors and torture by his hand.

_What a sorry end for a supposed champion of Azeroth._

A trembling sob escapes her lips as she feels the oppressive darkness taking her mind, and she thinks on all the regrets she’d come have throughout everything she had endured in her life. Though, strangely enough, the biggest regret at the forefront of her pain addled mind was how many promises she would be breaking to those she had come to love and care about most during her time in Revendreth.

She promised Theotar that she would have a tea party with him as soon as she returned from the Maw. He was overjoyed when she accepted his invitation, always so intent on making sure she took time to rest between missions.

She promised the Accuser that she would atone for and fix the mess she had made while carrying out Denathrius’ orders when first arriving to Revendreth. That she would rid the Halls of Atonement of the Lord Chamberlain’s corruption and help her set the abused souls on the long overdue path towards atoning for their sins.

She...She promised the Prince that they would take down Denathrius and redeem Revendreth or face the end of reality, together.

...She promised...

_Renathal..._

Tears mix with dirt and grime as they fall, leaving streaks on her cheeks, and she grips her hearthstone bound to Sinfall after reaching a trembling hand into her bag once more, hearing more than seeing one of the pursuing Mawsworn raise its weapon to finish her off for good.

The air around her changes, and the predatory sounds of the Mawsworn hunting her are suddenly silent.

“Maw Walker!! My Prince come quickly, she’s gravely injured!”

She must be dreaming, she thinks...She has to be. She definitely knows that voice...It belongs to Tavian, Sinfall’s innkeeper, but...He is safely back in Sinfall, no where near the Maw. She tries to concentrate on what he had said, he had shouted something in a panic, that much she could decipher, and yet she can’t seem to quite understand the words themselves, her mind entrapped in a thick fog that made everything sound so distant and muffled.

There is what sounds like rapidly approaching footfalls from somewhere nearby, followed by a furious snarl as the footsteps come to a stop beside her body and the faint feeling of pressure around her hand as if it was being someone was gently grasping it.

“What...What did they do to her?!”

She knows now that she almost certainly must be dreaming when she hears her Prince’s voice join Tavian’s. There was anger in his words, there was no mistaking that, but his fury was heavily laced with...panic? Fear? It makes her heart clench. She feels something warm and soft to the touch carefully being wrapped around her beaten body, and she can’t recall when she had become so cold.

The arms gathering her in their protective hold handle her with such care and gentleness it was as if they expected her to shatter like glass if they held her any tighter, completely enveloping her and resting her against something warm and solid, someone’s chest if the soothing heartbeat that drummed steadily in her ear was anything to go by.

No amount of care in the world, however, could entirely avoid causing the wounds she suffered to flare up and her body seizes from the pain, harshly forcing her mind back to semi-consciousness and to the realization that this _was_ real. Defying all logic, her hearthstone was still somehow able to respond to her within the Maw.

Crying out and her breathing coming in labored, strained gasps, there’s an immediate string of sincere apologies and comforting words being whispered to her in a soothing voice that can only belong to Renathal. In any other situation, she would have been a flustered, embarrassed mess at the realization that she was currently being carried, bridal style, through Sinfall and cuddled up against the chest of none other than the Dark Prince himself. But she can only weakly mumble a slurred apology, for returning in such a disastrous state and for most certainly staining his coat, or what she assumed was his coat that she was wrapped in, with her blood. The stains would permanent, she thought, and for some reason the idea made her feel terrible. He always kept it looking so pristine and well cared for, and now she’s gone and ruined it.

His thumb rubs the skin of her arm in comforting circles.

“Shhh...Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for, Maw Walker. Save your strength.”

She releases a trembling sigh at his words, her fingers gripping the fabric and feebly attempting to pull it tighter around her for both warmth and comfort. She was so tired, her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and both mind and body begged her to give in to the darkness that had been threatening to take her since collapsing within the Maw.

Lulled by the careful sway of the Renathal’s movements as he carried her deeper into Sinfall and the continued gentle, reassuring strokes of his thumb against her skin, she finally allows her eyes to flutter closed and willingly surrenders to the awaiting embrace of the endless void.


	2. Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeehaw, second chapter’s finally done! I’m sorry for the wait, but I hope this is worth the couple days delay! Hopefully I continued to do all the character’s justice, but I apologize in advance if anyone seems OOC!  
> Thank you to everyone who left such sweet comments on the first chapter, your feedback is what gives me the motivation to continue this, so please continue to let me know what you think and if you’d like to see continued updates! I already have a few ideas for future chapters, and I hope you’ll enjoy them just the same. :)  
> Happy reading to all us Renathal simps!

The first thing Lithedia feels as she comes to is that she is laying on something soft and comfortable, with something equally as soft enveloping her and keeping her warm, though it was impossible to chase away the permanent chill of the Maw’s touch.

The second thing, is the uncomfortable, aching stiffness of her body from disuse and the throbbing pain from both her head and her other injuries. Her ears are ringing, nausea makes her stomach churn, and she swears even with her eyes closed she can feel the room spinning. She definitely has a concussion, this isn’t the first time, but what happened...?

_Oh._

That’s right, she had been overwhelmed by Mawsworn while in the Maw.

Without opening her eyes, the mere thought of it increasing the intensity of the incessant pounding in her head, she sluggishly manages to shift her arm enough to bring a hand up to her side and hesitantly brushes her fingers over where a rip in her skin should have been. Instead, fingertips meet rough fabric, and as she slides her hand from her side over her stomach, finds that bandages wrap around the majority of her abdomen.

Still hesitating to make an attempt at prying her eyes open, she focuses instead on what she can hear from her surroundings, and picks up on the hushed, but tense voices of Renathal and the Accuser from the other end of the room.

“She isn’t invincible!”, she hears the Accuser hiss, clearly trying to keep her voice down as to not wake her, “Yes, she is powerful, more so than I believed any one mortal could be before witnessing her prowess with my own eyes, I will be the first to attest to that. But she’s still a mortal! Treating her as the sole solution to the corruption that plagues Revendreth who will single-handedly bring an end to Denathrius is going to get her killed! If not directly at the hands of the Sire or the Jailer, then most certainly from being over-worked and stretched far too thin!”

Renathal furrows his eyebrows in response, his expression betraying his genuine confusion and almost offense at her words, “Are you accusing me of not caring for the Maw Walker’s well-being?”

“I’m accusing you of failing to see the consequences of your actions! _Again_ _!_ ”

The Accuser has to restrain herself from throwing her hands up in her frustration, instead opting to grip the fabric of her dress in clenched fists, “You constantly place yourself and others in danger with your impulsivity and rash decision making! You never stop for a second to see the fallacies in your ‘grand plans’ which have directly resulted in the exile or death of the majority of our forces after the first failed coup to overthrow Denathrius! Your recklessness had the Curator-“

She stops then, choking on her words as she suppresses a sudden bout of emotion.

The Curator’s current...condition has been hard for the Accuser to witness. Watching the one you love most deteriorate from the most knowledgeable being in the entirety of the realm, to suddenly not being able to remember the names of her closest friends or the location of her own medallion...

The Jailer’s cruelty knew no bounds, and Lithedia swears she will not rest until he is defeated.

Renathal sighs, his expression solemn and shoulders slumping slightly in resignation as her words sink in, “You’re right...I have been a reckless fool. It was never my intention for anyone to be hurt on my behalf,” he murmurs, reaching out to place a hand on her arm in an attempt to comfort her, “I never...I never imagined the Sire would be so cruel as to throw the first of his creations into the Maw. Myself perhaps for acting out against him directly, but never the Curator...”

The Accuser half-heartedly swats his hand from her arm with a scowl and wraps her arms around herself, glaring at something, anything else the room that wasn’t him in an attempt to hide the tears welling in her eyes. She takes a deep breath and shuts them for a moment, and when she opens them again, her usual stoic composure has returned.

She fixes her glare upon him for a long moment, as if debating if he was worth her time, before pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance and sighing irritably, “...If you truly care for the Maw Walker, as you claim you do, Renathal, then do her a favor and quit treating her like some disposable tool to use as a buffer to avoid getting our own hands dirty. I know you don’t mean it to come across that way, but-...“

“...-It’s not his fault! I...I shouldn’t have been so careless...” Lithedia rasps, having managed to return to semi-consciousness sometime during the conversation, but is still clearly disoriented, her vision unfocused as she looks between the two Venthyr. She attempts to prop herself up on one arm but winces as her body protests against the movement, groaning in pain as she holds her head with her free hand.

With how fast Renathal is beside her, carefully urging her to lay back on the bed, you’d think he teleported.

“Maw Walker, please, you need to rest. Do not attempt to get up,” he rumbles gently, meticulously brushing away some stray scarlet strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes, “You have suffered serious injuries, and we do not possess the spells and abilities necessary to heal you here.”

A faint blush dusts her freckled features as his fingers brush against her forehead and cheeks, and in her lethargy, does not restrain herself from attempting to lean into his touch. His cooler temperature felt so nice against her heated skin...

“Mm...How long was I out?” She whispers, shutting her eyes as he seems to get the hint and rests the back of his hand against her forehead.

He chuckles at her daze-induced behavior and smiles fondly, “For nearly three days, I am...relieved to see you awake to say the least. Sinfall hasn’t been the same without your presence, you have been sorely missed,” he lets his hand move from her forehead down to her cheek, “I have requested for an envoy of Bastion to assist in getting you back on your feet, but for now you must rest.”

The Accuser watches the two with her arms crossed, shaking her head with the ghost of a smile on her face, “Welcome back to us, Maw Walker. I will send news to Theotar, he will want to bring you some of his tea now that you’re awake,” she says before curtly excusing herself and phases through the mirror that links the room to the rest of Sinfall.

There is a comfortable silence as Lithedia almost seems to doze off again while resting her head against his hand, but her eyes crack open into slits after a few moments and gaze at him blearily, “...It’s not your fault you know. What the Accuser said...about placing me in harms way and wielding my power as a weapon against Denathrius and in defense of Revendreth. I’m...intimately familiar with being placed on the front lines during times of war and conflict and becoming an instrument of power, in some way or another, for others to utilize and serve their needs,” she sighs, attempting to offer him a smile of reassurance, but it just looks...forced. Strained. Exhausted.

Guilt pierces Renathal’s chest, and he quickly takes her hand in his, squeezing it tenderly, “I do not know where to begin in fully expressing how terribly sorry I am for taking advantage of your endless kindness and willingness to aid our cause. You have shown such compassion for us Venthyr and our well-being, and yet we have not extended the same courtesy to our savior. I never meant to use you, I...I am so sorry, Lithedia,” he speaks sincerely, not once breaking the eye contact between them even as his voice seems to break slightly towards the end.

Hearing him use her true name, instead of her title as Maw Walker, makes her heart skip a beat and the feelings that she had been trying so hard to repress ever since she rescued him from the Maw surge to the surface. The sincerity and genuine regret in his words and expression, and the way he holds her hand so delicately has her forgiving him instantly.

She gives his hand a reassuring squeeze in return, offering him another smile but this time one of warmth and understanding, “You are forgiven. I was never angry with you in the first place, I know how important it is that we usurp Denathrius as soon as possible. I gave my entirety to you when I vowed my allegiance to the Venthyr. I am yours to use in whatever way pleases you, my Prince.”

It’s only after she finishes speaking and notices the surprised expression on Renathal’s face does she realize how her words could be taken out of context and the entirety of her face and tips of her ears alight in a bright shade of crimson.

“I-I mean...I-“

He bursts into laughter before she can even attempt to rectify the situation, and she buries her face in her hands as he continues to laugh at her misfortune.

“Really? In ‘whatever way pleases me’, Maw Walker?” He teases with a purr, smirking and trying his hardest to hold back more amused laughter as her blush impossibly deepens in color.

“You know what I meant!” She groans, refusing to look at him as she keeps her face covered out of embarrassment.

His smile softens, and he gingerly takes both of her hands in his so she cannot hide behind them. She doesn’t resist, but averts her eyes away from him instead.

“Maw Walker,” he purrs, waiting a moment for her to respond before trying again when he is met with silence, “Lithedia, look at me.”

He affectionately runs the back of a finger down along her cheek, tracing her jawline before hooking it under her chin and uses it to turn her head towards him, careful to not aggravate any of her injuries.

She finally gathers her courage and glances up at him, trying to control her racing heart that she is convinced Renathal must be able to hear with how loud it sounded in her ears. But her breath hitches and eyes widen in shock as she finds he had leaned down to her level while she wasn’t looking, his lips now only inches from hers.

“May I?”

She can’t seem to form a single coherent thought or move a muscle other than to give him a slight nod of approval, not daring to breathe as he slowly, slowly closes the gap between them, mere centimeters apart before-

“My Prince!! I heard the Maw Walker is finally awake and came running as soon as I-... _Oh~!_ ”

Theotar grins from ear to ear as he takes in the...compromising position he has found two of his closest friends in, “Am I interrupting something~?”

Lithedia panics and abruptly whirls her head to the side away from Renathal before their lips could meet, hissing from the fast movement but forces a smile for Theotar, “N-No! Not at all!” She says a little too loudly to be casual, blinking away the sudden dizziness. Whether it was from whipping her head around or how close she had come to sharing a kiss with the Dark Prince, she couldn’t tell.

Renathal cooly leans back and straightens to his full height, waving a hand as he dismisses Theotar’s notion of barging in on them, “Not to worry my dear friend, the Maw Walker has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Theotar doesn’t seem to buy it, looking between the two with a raised eyebrow before shrugging, letting it go for the time being, “Whatever you say~! I made sure to make some of my best tea for you, Maw Walker, it should help restore your energy. Lady Sybille and I have been worried absolutely sick over your health!” He frets, pouring her, as well as himself and Renathal, a cup each.

Lithedia gratefully takes the cup of tea he prepared for her with a smile, taking a cautious sip before relaxing considerably as it gradually warms her from the inside out and seems to wash away the aching pain in her muscles, “Thank you, Theotar, this is exactly what I needed.”

The next couple hours are spent with Theotar recounting everything that she has missed while she was unconscious, from his personal adventures with Vulca and Lady Sybille to how everyone else in Sinfall has reacted to the news of her being out of commission. Hearing how much everyone misses her and is concerned for her, including the Accuser and Curator, makes her heart swell with affection for them. It’s something she has never truly experienced before from allies in the past, but is more than welcome and appreciated.

Though the Venthyr have continued to maintain that they are the ones lucky to have her, she’s the one who feels lucky to have friends...no...family like them after a lifetime of feeling lost and alone on Azeroth. She is so incredibly thankful.

Renathal suddenly raises a hand in a silent sign to Theotar to quiet, interrupting his latest idea for a brand new, decadent tea that he is excited to experiment with, as he motions over to Lithedia who is now peacefully asleep. There is a gentleness in Theotar’s expression as his gaze lingers on Lithedia for a moment, before turning his attention on Renathal.

“You love her.”

It’s more of a statement, not a question. It’s not difficult for Theotar to discern from the longing and desire in Renathal’s eyes to reach out and touch her, to hold her and chase away her pain and loneliness. But he has known of the Prince’s feelings for quite awhile now, he is his dearest friend after all, and there are no secrets between them.

Renathal chuckles softly and smiles almost wistfully, “Is it that obvious?”

Theotar has to repress a snort at that and rolls his eyes, “Oh my dear Prince, it is written all over your face. You aren’t fooling anyone.”

Renathal reaches out and runs his fingers through her long hair, letting the stands slip between them as he contemplates his feelings for this mortal who has saved not only his life, but the lives of all the Venthyr of Sinfall who have pledged their support to the rebellion.

“What do you suppose I should do then?” He sighs, not taking his eyes off of her tranquil features as he commits every detail to memory.

“Tell her. I think it will be beneficial for the both of you,” Theotar says matter-of-factly and stands from the bed, gathering the emptied tea cups and pot from their impromptu tea party, “Now come, let her rest. You need to allow yourself time to sleep as well, you’ve been by her side since the moment she arrived. The immediate danger has passed, she will be alright by herself for tonight.”

Renathal hesitates, loathe to leave her and lets his gaze linger on her for a few moments more. He leans down, cupping the side of her face with his hand as he lovingly places a kiss on her forehead before ultimately relenting, feeling exhaustion finally catching up with him.

“Sweet dreams, Maw Walker.”

He reluctantly follows Theotar’s lead out of the room, pausing for one last glance at her sleeping form before phasing through the mirror with all the love he holds for her swirling in his heart.


	3. Leap of Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo ‘kay so this chapter REALLY got away from me. 4,000 words later, and I’m finally happy with how it turned out! This one heavily deals with Lithedia’s past. I manually leveled her from level 1 all the way to max level(120) in BFA before the squish, so this girl has been put through every single expansion and every trauma imaginable at this point. Poor thing has a lot of guilt and regret over the burning of Teldrassil especially, so expect that to be touched on further in later chapters as well. Both her and Renathal need a BREAK.  
> Also, the Curator makes an appearance in this one! I love her to death, she needs to be protected at all costs.  
> As always, let me know what you think and if you would want to see any particular story events or specific scenarios between characters! I’m more than open to ideas of what you’d like to see unfold throughout this story, including more backstory on characters and what not!  
> Thank you for all the continued support on this, enjoy! 💖

It’s been exactly one week since Lithedia’s near death experience within the Maw, and while her wounds still have some healing to do, her condition has improved by leaps and bounds thanks to Kleia who had graciously travelled all the way to Revendreth from Bastion to speed up the healing process for the worst of them. It was definitely a learning curve for the Kyrian to figure out how to heal a living mortal, but she made it work in the end, and Lithedia couldn’t be more grateful to her.

She carefully slips into the elegant dress that she reserves only for Ember Courts, biting her lip anxiously as she pats down the skirt to eliminate any wrinkles. It is absolutely gorgeous and fits her every curve perfectly, with a deep wine red bodice and underskirt, a black overskirt and sleeves, and gold accents and accessories to add some flair, but she has always felt so out of place in anything but her chainmail armor. She isn’t one for getting all done up and doesn’t normally take part in fancy parties, even when she was younger before she ever ventured away from Eversong Woods where these kinds of events were commonplace.

She remembers attending them often when she was a child, with her parents and older sister. Her sister was much better suited for them, she was stunningly beautiful and naturally graceful, and could captivate an entire room with her charm. Lithedia always considered herself to be quite plain in both looks and personality compared to her.

She wishes she could ask her for pointers.

Thankfully, she is almost always too busy during the courts to do much else other than ensure all of the invited guests were enjoying themselves and had their fill of tea. And this Ember Court won’t be any different. Though she _is_ dreading the amount of running around she is going to have to do...Her body is still quite sore and her now bruised rather then entirely broken ribs are still sensitive enough to bother her if she breathes too deeply.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of someone phasing through the mirror leading into the room, and finds herself relieved to see it isn’t Renathal, who she _might_ have been actively avoiding since their nearly shared kiss four days ago. She is blessed with one of Theotar’s signature grins as he sees her in her ballgown, and she can’t help but smile brightly in return.

“You look positively ravishing as usual, Maw Walker! You’re certainly going to be the center of attention at tonight’s court,” he winks and motions for her to turn around so he can help her lace the back of the bodice.

She laughs and rolls her eyes, “Oh please, you flatter me, Theotar. We all know it’s the dress, not me.”

He tsks in disapproval and once he is finished with her dress, he spins her around to face him and takes her hands in his, uncharacteristically serious, “None of that self-deprecating nonsense, Maw Walker! You are absolutely breathtaking and deserve to know as much, dress or no dress. Anyone not entirely captivated by you at all times does not deserve your attentions, do you understand?”

She smiles softly at his instance and just nods, knowing it is impossible to argue with him on the subject. He never lets her, or anyone for that matter, speak negatively about themselves. He always sees the best in everyone, and that is something she adores and admires about him, “I understand, thank you for reminding me.”

His usual bright demeanor returns at her acceptance, and he nods in approval before quickly leading her by the hand to sit on a vanity stool, “Splendid! Now let me do your hair, and you’ll be all set and ready to go for the party!”

She obediently sits and straightens her posture to make it easier for him to tell if everything’s even on both sides. It’s become tradition at this point for him to help her get ready before every Ember Court, so she knows the routine, “You know your hard work is always ruined by the end of the night with how much running around I’m doing, you don’t have to keep putting in so much effort to make it look nice.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Regardless of whether it lasts the entire court, it’s important for you to feel beautiful going into the night, and besides, isn’t it nice to be pampered every once in awhile?”

She hums thoughtfully at that, “I suppose...It’s just something I need to get more accustomed to.”

With practiced hands, he easily styles her hair in an updo that is equally as elegant as her dress, and tops it off with a flower crown of black roses to pull it all together. He claps his hands together in excitement as he draws back to get a good look at her full ensemble, “I have outdone myself this time, you truly are the definition of beauty, Maw Walker!”

She blushes furiously and shyly wrings her hands, still not quite used to being complimented so often and so openly, but when you’re friends with Theotar it’s a given, “T-Thank you, but I still feel terrible that all this hard work will ultimately be for nothing once I get to work attending to the guests...”  
  
Realization flashes across his expression, and he fervently shakes his head in response to her worries, “Oh, my apologies, Maw Walker! I completely neglected to tell you that there’s no need for you to attend to the guests tonight, you will be enjoying the court as a guest yourself!”

She blinks in surprise before his words dawn on her, and a mixture of anxiety and dread swirls in her stomach uneasily, “As...I’m a guest?”

“Yes! You’ll be able to take part in and enjoy the festivities just as much as everyone else for once! Your wounds are still healing, and my Prince did not want you straining yourself and possibly aggravating one of your injuries, so he requisitioned some extra help! Isn’t that exciting?” He exclaims cheerfully, completely oblivious to her growing panic as she realizes that not only will she have to actually participate in the court instead of working it, she won’t have any excuse to NOT speak to Renathal and will inevitably have to face him, her feelings she harbors for him, and her fear of those feelings.

_There is no happy ending for you._

Her normally tanned skin goes pale at the thought of the confrontation to come, and Theotar’s enthusiasm drops considerably when he notices the change in her mood, “Maw Walker, are you feeling alright? You look dreadfully pale...”

She swallows thickly and forces a smile, trying to keep her breathing steady, “Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry...Just need to get some air is all,” she lies, and takes his hands in hers to further assure him she was _fine_ , “Go ahead and help the others with the preparations for tonight, I’m sure they are entirely lost without your expert guidance.”

He frowns and has half a mind to protest and stay with her until he is positive she is okay, but he also can’t deny that the preparations will be an absolute disaster if he does not intervene sooner rather than later, “...Promise that you will come find either myself or Renathal if something is truly wrong?”

She averts her gaze from his, knowing full well she definitely could and would not go to Renathal considering their relationship IS the problem, and she can’t be entirely truthful with Theotar either, he is the Prince’s dearest friend after all. Though she is sure he will be understanding if she explains to him the battle she is fighting internally, she doesn’t want to put Theotar in the middle like that, it wouldn’t be fair.

Despite of her plight, she nods and squeezes his hands reassuringly, “I promise. Now go before something or someone catches on fire.”

“You’re right! I will seek you out once the festivities begin, my dear Maw Walker!” He promises her, leaving in quite a hurry as he rushes through the mirror to Sinfall.

The next couple of hours leading up to the court pass by much too quickly for Lithedia’s liking, leaning against the railing of the balcony attached to her room as she watches the activity below her. As she notices the first guests beginning to arrive, she hears Renathal’s voice ring out across the courtyard as if on cue to officially announce the start of the event.

“Welcome, my friends, to the Ember Court!”

She can see him clearly from where she is on the balcony and just hearing his voice and watching him from afar is enough to cause her heart to clench painfully in longing.

_Is it really a crime for me to be happy for once in my life?_

“Maw Walker!”

She looks down and sees Theotar, Temel, and Stefan waving up at her enthusiastically. She can’t help but smile as she waves back, “I’ll be down in a minute!” She calls, and it takes all of her willpower to ignore Renathal’s burning gaze on her. She uses her promise to join the party as an excuse to return to her room and out of his line of sight, taking a steadying breath in a poor attempt to calm her nerves. She cannot keep them waiting any longer, she knows, so she steps through the mirror and into Sinfall, hastily making her way up the steps leading outside into the courtyard.

To say she is overwhelmed is an understatement.

This is her first public appearance since her accident, and she underestimated just how much she was missed. _Everyone_ seems to want a chance to speak with her, guests and workers alike, and by the end of the first hour she already feels absolutely exhausted.

But that also means there hasn’t been any opportunity for Renathal to confront her about her avoidant behavior either. 

Thankfully, she is saved from the pressing socialites and curious dredgers when she feels a hand on each of her shoulders and turns to see both the Accuser and Curator flanking her.

“Give the Maw Walker some space!” The Accuser commands sharply, shooing away the small crowd that has gathered around her, and the two pull her off to the side so she can have a moment to collect herself.

“It’s so good to see you up and about, Maw Walker! I must confess, I missed you terribly.” The Curator admits, pulling her into a hug which Lithedia is more than happy to return.

“I missed you too,” she smiles, stepping back after a moment to take a deep breath and calm down, “Thank you for saving me, it was getting to be a little overwhelming. A hunter isn’t one for crowds.”

The Accuser gives her a pointed look, “You’re welcome, but we’re here to speak with you about another matter.”

She frowns and looks between them worriedly, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s about Renathal...” The Curator starts out cautiously, but the Accuser is never one to sugarcoat anything.

“Would you care to explain _why_ you aren’t you speaking with him?”

Lithedia opens her mouth as if to speak, but no sound comes, internally panicking as she struggles to come up with an excuse.

“I...It’s...hard to explain...”

The Accuser crosses her arms and narrows her eyes dangerously as she stumbles over her words, “Well, you better start talking! Do not _dare_ attempt to lie to me, Maw Walker, I _will_ know,” she snaps, and Lithedia suddenly feels much like a child being scolded by her mother, shame welling within her, “This silent treatment you’re pulling has him distracted and troubled, and we cannot afford for the leader of this rebellion to not be fully focused on the campaign over the antics of a mortal! There is far too much at risk!”

The Curator places a hand on the Accuser’s arm and sighs exasperatedly, “Harriet _gently_ , be _gentle_. We talked about this...”

While the two bicker between themselves, Lithedia feels her throat tighten as she tries to articulate why she has been avoiding him, preventing her from getting a word out without fear of breaking down in the middle of the court. It isn’t like she _wants_ this, she doesn’t want to hurt him, to hurt _herself_. She is knowingly breaking her own heart, for what seems like the thousandth time, but she can’t see any way around it.

It’s the Curator who first notices the tears welling in her eyes, and she hurriedly shushes the Accuser who had been just about ready to interrogate her further, kneeling down so she is eye level with the blood elf.

“Do you care for him?”

Lithedia can only bring herself to nod, barely holding herself together now.

“Then _talk_ to him. Whatever it is that has you all in a tizzy, I am certain he will understand,” she assures her and offers a kind smile, to which she gives a sorrowful one in return.

The Curator’s attention is suddenly drawn to something walking up from behind Lithedia, and she has a sinking feeling she knows what, or rather who, it is. There’s no avoiding the inevitable.

“I do hate to interrupt, but I’m afraid I must steal the Maw Walker away from the both of you,” Renathal says apologetically as he comes to a stop at her side, resting a hand on the small of her back which somehow still manages to make her feel safe and protected despite the conflict raging within her, “Can I entrust the well being of the court to you, Accuser?”

She waves a hand dismissively and shoots them both a threatening glare that said ‘ _figure it out,_ _or I will personally end the both of you with my own two hands’_ , “Yes of course, I will ensure everything runs smoothly and nothing burns to the ground.”

“Excellent, I knew I could count on you! Now, let us find somewhere we can speak more...privately, shall we, Maw Walker?”

Lithedia allows him to lead her to the ruined tower, his hand never once leaving her back as they walk in silence. She glances behind her once to see the Curator give her an encouraging thumbs up.

They walk until they find an area where the walls are still mostly intact, and block them off completely from the view and earshot of any party goers. Neither of them speak, a palpable tension charging the air around them, and she finds herself trembling in apprehension. She’s scared, not of him of course, but of how much she will hurt him and how much she already has. He moves to face her, and she braces herself for what he has to say.

“Lithedia, look at me. Please.”

She reluctantly raises her head to meet his gaze, and her heart nearly shatters at how...dejected and heartbroken he looks, the dark circles under his eyes clear evidence of recent sleepless nights. All because of _her_.

“Don’t shut me out,” he begs, his eyes pleading with hers as he reaches out to her, “Talk to me. What did I do to upset you? Tell me what I did wrong so I can _fix_ this, I cannot stand the way things are between us.”

She doesn’t know where or how to start explaining to him the mess of self-loathing and trauma that has built up within her over the years with no release, a ticking time bomb long overdue to explode. Frustration surges within her as she grapples with what she wants to say, nothing sounding quite right in her head. She wants to tell him that he never did anything wrong at all, that it was all her, that she didn’t _deserve_ him or the patience that he was extending to her now after the silence, hurt, and confusion she has been forcing him to endure over the past days.

He takes her silence as a refusal to open up to him, and he sighs deeply, refusing to give up on this, on _her_ , “I _know_ you feel the same as I. The undeniable connection that draws our souls to one another...I wasn’t certain of it before, though I’ve felt it from the very moment I first laid eyes on you when you came to my rescue in the Maw, but the affections we shared during your recovery...Why do you fight what is so clearly meant to be? Why do you fight _us_? After everything has come to pass, I know we can find happiness, together-...”

“...- _Because there is no happy ending for the ‘Champion of Azeroth’_!” She cries out as her frustration boils over, her voice breaking as the tears she has been desperately attempting to hold back spill down her cheeks, “All that surrounds me, all that I know, is a constant, never ending cycle of violence and death! Everything I have been through...My parents and sister _slaughtered_ in front of me during the Scourge invasion of Silvermoon, the Maelstrom nearly tearing Azeroth apart, Mount Hyjal, Outland, Draenor, the Legion invasion of the Broken Isles and our devastating defeat at the Broken Shore, Argus, Sargeras burying his blade into the very core of my world and nearly bringing about it’s destruction _again_ , Sylvanas burning thousands of innocents alive in Teldrassil while all I did was stand and _watch_ , Nazjatar, nearly losing myself to N’Zoth’s corruption as I was _forced_ to endure his visions and be tormented by my worst nightmares _over_ and _over_ again for the sake of everyone else in Azeroth all the while I had been suffering and broken for years and not one person ever cared to ask if _I_ needed help!” She is sobbing at this point, hugging herself tightly as she collapses into herself and her grief, “There is no happy ending for me, why don’t you _see_ that? I’m expected to refrain from personal attachments for the convenience of others and for sake of my own heart and sanity. After all this is over, there will be another pointless conflict, another danger that will tear me away from the Shadowlands, from _you_ , and I’ll lose yet another person I love because what I want doesn’t _matter_!”

Renathal’s eyes widen in shock at her outburst, and his heart breaks as he watches her fall to pieces in front of him. He had an idea of the toll her power and title must take on her mind and body, but for so long and through so much...He takes a cautious step forward, desperately wanting to take her into his arms and shield her from the weight of her burdens and the memories that haunt her, “Oh Lithedia, my dear...”

She doesn’t seem to hear him call to her, or at least doesn’t acknowledge if she did, succumbing to her anguish, “I’m hopelessly in love with you, Renathal! I love you, and I’m terrified to lose you just as I’ve lost everyone else I’ve ever loved in my life! I can’t lose you too, I love you, I-...!”

Her rambling is cut short, his lips crashing into hers in a passionate kiss as he effortlessly lifts her small form into his arms and roughly pushes her up against a wall. She gasps and clings to him like a lifeline, fingers burying themselves into his hair as her arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss while she presses herself against him.

“I love you too, with all that I am,” he murmurs against her lips, his hands gripping her hips possessively.

“I can’t endure another heartbreak... _Please_...” she whispers, resting her forehead against his, “Don’t let me lose you...”

“You won’t lose me, I swear to you that much,” he vows, only pulling away for a moment to gaze into her eyes with an intense sincerity and tenderly wipe away her tears with his thumb, “No power in the Shadowlands or beyond could keep me from you, my love. Not even the Jailer himself.”

She cups his face with her hands, and Renathal leans into the touch, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the palm of her hand. She laughs tearfully and sighs, “...I never thought love would be in the cards for me, I had just accepted that I would most likely die fighting without ever getting the chance to share my life with someone.”

“And yet here we are,” He rumbles, lovingly nuzzling into her neck as he tightens his hold on her, drawing her impossibly closer, “I’ll never let you go.”

“I take no issue with that,” she wraps her arms around him again, one hand stroking the back of his hair, and they stay like that for awhile, just basking in the feeling of finally being able to hold one another.

She finds herself nearly falling asleep in his arms, entirely emotionally and mentally spent after the days events. Renathal hums softly and carefully shifts her so he is carrying her bridal style, her head laying comfortably against his chest. The same way he held her when she showed up wounded in Sinfall.

“Allow me take you back to your room so you can rest, my heart.”

“What about the court? Shouldn’t you stay?” She mumbles, looking up at him tiredly.

He shakes his head with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss to her forehead, “The Accuser has everything under control, my only concern right now is you.”

Her heart swells with her love for him, and she buries her face into his chest, “Then take me away, my Prince.”

He keeps her close as they emerge from their hiding place, staying on the outskirts of the festivities as to not attract too much attention and risk their retreat being interrupted by nosey guests. Fortunately, they manage to make it to the stairwell leading down into Sinfall without incident, the only one taking notice being Theotar who just grins with a knowing expression and waves as the two pass by.

They escape down the stairs and through the mirror into her bedroom, Renathal gently setting her down in front of her bed and running a finger along the exposed skin of her upper arm comfortingly, “I do not want to be too forward, but may I help you out of your dress? I can’t imagine it would be too comfortable to sleep in.”

A light blush paints her cheeks pink, but she nods her approval of his request, “By all means, please do.”

He delicately begins unlacing the bodice until the dress is able to slip off of her with hardly any effort on her behalf. With a wave of his hand, he has it neatly hung up and removes the flower crown from her hair as well before he returns his attentions onto her, running his hands along her curves and tracing some of her more prominent scars with the tips of his fingers, “Get some rest, darling. I will see you again when you wake.”

She takes his hand into hers and laces their fingers together, feeling bold, “Stay with me? Please? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“As you wish,” he smirks with a mischievous glint to his eyes before he suddenly picks up her with a flourish, throwing her over his shoulder which causes her to squeal in surprise and laugh as she is tossed onto the bed. He removes his own clothes quickly enough and joins her under the covers, pulling her into his waiting embrace.

She snuggles into him, placing an affectionate kiss to his shoulder before burying her face in his neck and peppering more kisses up and down the length of it, “I love you, Renathal.”  
  
He protectively draws her up against him, carding his fingers through her hair as he loosens it from the updo for the court, “I love you too. Sleep well, my heart.”

She sighs contently, her eyes falling closed, and before long she is drifting off to sleep as he soothingly rubs her back in slow motions. No nightmares would come for her tonight, she knew, for she was safe and at peace in the embrace of the man she loves.


	4. Picking Up The Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains smut, so read at your own risk!  
> Here we go y’all, another chapter out, and this one gets steamy! I can’t even remember the last time I wrote out a smut scene, so please have mercy on me. 😅 Hopefully this chapter lives up to all of your expectations.  
> Enjoy, fellow sinners!

“Renathal, I’ll be _fine_. I’m not diving head first into the Maw, I’m just going to Ardenwield to aid them in their struggle against the Drust,” Lithedia sighs as she straps Thas’dorah to her back along with her quiver of arrows, “I’ve had previous experience with them back on Azeroth in their homeland of Drustvar, so I know exactly what I’m getting into.”

That doesn’t stop Renathal from fretting, helping her into the last pieces of her newly repaired gear, but clearly not quite sold on the idea of her going off to help the other realms just yet, “I know, but are you sure your injuries have entirely healed? You shouldn’t push yourself to jump back into the fray if-...”

“...-Says the man who was nearly shredded to ribbons by a living sword and refused to rest for even a single day to allow himself time to recover,” She shoots back at him, cupping his face in her hands while he is still kneeling and leaving a chaste kiss on his lips, “I’ll be okay, I promise. Besides, I’ll have Dandelion at my side, and you know he won’t let any harm come to me. If anything does happen, though nothing will, Alundris will find her way back home to you and deliver the message.”

Dandelion, a white, gold, and teal Larion Sire, is her loyal pet that specializes in endurance and has involuntarily increased Lithedia’s own by just trying to keep up with his high energy. He is able to maintain enemies’ attention on him, his strong frame built for defense able to endure the brunt of the damage from enemies while she engages from afar. Vicious and able to rip and tear through enemies with ease, he’s also the biggest sweetheart and the softest pillow for when she needs to rest while out adventuring. 

As a Marksmanship Hunter who is fully capable of holding her own, however, she opts to leave him out of her ventures into the Maw, not wishing to risk him becoming trapped within if she were to fall or be captured by the Jailer or his forces. On those days, she drops him off with Sinfall’s stable master, Vasilica, so he can nap and play with Renathal’s pet gargon, Vrednic.

Alundris is her stalwart companion, a pure, almost ethereal white Nightwreathed Watcher born from the boughs of the great tree Teldrassil before the burning. She was gifted to her by Tyrande Whisperwind herself as a thank you and a sign of trust for all the times Lithedia tirelessly worked side by side with both her and her husband, Malfurion Stormrage. Together they contained the Maelstrom and saved both Nordrassil in Mount Hyjial and Shala’drassil in Val’sharah. At one point, Lithedia had personally dove into the depths of the Nightmare itself to save her husband from the clutches of the Nightmare Lord Xavius. Despite being a commander of the Horde, she and the two Night Elven leaders had developed a mutual respect for one another over the course of these events, and in times of peace between the factions, she would even go as far as to call them both friend.

That was the past, though, as she knows that relationship has since deteriorated into hatred for her, and she can’t blame them. How can she expect them to forgive her when she cannot even forgive herself?

Renathal does not look happy by any means, but he relents with a defeated sigh, reverently stroking a finger down her cheek and taking her hand gently in his free one, “Then at least allow me to escort you to the the courier so I can see you off?”

She smiles lovingly and leans into his touch, “Of course you can, sweetheart. I won’t be long, I promise, so please try not to worry yourself too much, okay? You have enough to worry about as it is,” she squeezes his hand reassuringly as he stands, and together they walk through Sinfall. 

They didn’t bother to keep their new relationship a secret, at least not from anyone in Sinfall. Renathal was far too affectionate with her, as she found out, for it to be stay a secret for long, and quite frankly she didn’t want it to be either. It felt amazing to be able to walk through Sinfall, as they currently were, and to hold his hand, and everyone seems to be genuinely happy for them too. Theotar was over the moon when the two came to him before anyone else to share the news, though he secretly already knew after catching them escaping from the court together. The Curator was just as thrilled to hear it all worked out in the end, and while the Accuser didn’t offer much of an outward reaction to the news besides to not let their relationship get in the way of their work, both Lithedia and Renathal knew her well enough to know she was happy for them too.

There wasn’t a need to announce their relationship to the rest of Sinfall after Lithedia shared the latest development of her feelings for Renathal with Nadija. By the end of the day, the Mistblade had already managed to spread the news like wildfire to every Venthyr in every corner of Sinfall, so there wasn’t anyone left for them to tell who didn’t already know. Neither of them minded though, and Lithedia thought it made the reveal feel a little more natural than blatantly announcing their love in front of a crowd.

She is _not_ a fan of crowds.

They reach their destination far quicker than either one of them want, but Lithedia can’t help but grin as Dandelion immediately bounds over to her, nearly knocking her to the ground in his excitement as he greets her.

“Hello to you too!” She laughs as the Larion licks her cheek, hugging him around his mane and letting her head rest against the soft fur, “Ready to go back to Ardenwield?”

As he roars in affirmation, Alundris silently glides over as well and takes her usual spot on her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek in greeting.

Renathal smiles softly watching her interact with her companions and approaches to fondly pet both Dandelion and Alundris as well, “I trust you two will take good care of our Maw Walker?”

They both seem to nod in response as if they understood his request, and Lithedia gives him one last long, lingering kiss, “They always do.”

~

Hours have passed since she had departed with her companions to Ardenwield, and Renathal is worried out of his mind.

He knows full well that she has been on countless previous visits to the other realms, after all, he sent her on quite a few of those recon missions to aid their fellow covenants himself. But this is her first mission since her accident, her first mission since it was permanently burned into his head that she IS mortal, and that she isn’t untouchable. He tries to reasons with himself again and again that it was only a one-time slip up, that she has always made it back home to them in one piece all those times before, and this trip won’t be any different. But his heart has known great loss and heartbreak before, he’s been _abandoned_ before, and because of those still aching physical and emotional wounds that _he_ inflicted, Renathal can’t quite seem to bring himself to believe in his own mental reassurances.

He doesn’t realize he’s been pacing back and forth restlessly for quite a while until Theotar firmly wraps a hand around his wrist, forcing Renathal to snap out of his distressing thoughts and to still his anxiety driven movements.

“My dear Prince...You must rest, the others have already retired to their chambers for the day,” he urges gently, his expression solemn for he knows that his Prince’s wounds run deep, “The Maw Walker will come home to us as soon as she is able, as she always does, and she knows where to find you once she does return. So for now, please try and get some sleep.”

A growl forms at the back of his throat, his body itching to continue its pacing, anything to distract himself from the possibility of having his heart and soul torn apart for a second time, “There is no possible way for you to know that with such certainty.”

Theotar pauses for a long moment, his grip on his wrist tightening slightly as he chooses his next words carefully in an effort to cause the smallest amount of pain possible, “My Prince...She is not like _Denathrius_.”

Renathal tenses, and his impatience and irritation is quickly reduced to the deep sorrow that has plagued his everyday existence since his Sire’s betrayal, his heartache clear in his expression, “I...I am well aware,” he whispers, turning his head to the side in a poor attempt at hiding his pain, though he knew it was a pointless endeavor as Theotar has been well aware of his internal struggles from the start.

He is his dearest friend after all.

The Mad Duke sighs, wearing an unusual frown upon his lips at his Prince’s insistence to try and hide his pain as he lightly encourages Renathal towards his and the Maw Walker’s chamber with a hand rested on his back, “Come, let us depart. When you awaken from your slumber, she will once again be at your side. Of this I am certain.”

~

Lithedia is incredibly sore and ready to sleep for an eternity if she could, but the mission was ultimately a success. She had managed to thin out the majority of the Drust forces in Tirna Scithe, and Lady Moonberry, as always, was very grateful to her and made sure she left with a suitable reward. She has to admit, she had missed her lighthearted personality and sense of humor, and Aralon and Niya as well, but she is more so relieved to be back in Revendreth. She has grown to love it every bit as much as Azeroth...but in her heart, she knows that Azeroth is no longer her true home. It has always been here, with the Venthyr, with _Renathal_.

After dropping Dandelion and Alundris off with Vasilica again to rest, she exhaustedly makes her way to her and Renathal’s chamber, practically dragging her feet at this point. As she steps through the mirror and into the dark bedroom, she sighs in relief and glances over at their bed to see Renathal laying on his side with his back turned towards her, seemingly already asleep. She can’t help but smile at that, happy to see he hadn’t worried himself too much if he was able to sleep before she had returned home.

She carefully strips out of her gear which is in desperate need for repairs, delegating that as a task for tomorrow’s her to deal with. Right now all she cares about is getting into bed and letting sleep finally take her. Now free of the constraints of her armor and undergarments, she trudges over and unceremoniously flops onto the bed with a quiet groan, her back and legs thanking her for the reprieve after such a long day.

Her eyes are only closed for but a few moments before she is suddenly enveloped in a strong embrace, and her eyes open into tired slits, meeting Renathal’s fiery gaze, “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to wake you...”

He only buries his face into her neck and pulls her flush against him, his hold on her possessive. She frowns at his lack of response, her mind quickly forcing itself awake again in concern. Something was off.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She whispers worriedly, wrapping her arms around him and stroking his hair, massaging the back of his head lightly with her nails in the way she knew normally relaxed him.

He lets out a shaky breath, and Lithedia’s anxiety skyrockets as she feels tears wetting her neck and shoulder where he is keeping his face hidden, her eyes widening in alarm as she tries to coax him to look at her, “My love, please let me see you, I need you to tell me what happened,” she begs, attempting to pull back enough in his tight grasp to be able to look at him again. He reluctantly allows it, and her heart hurts seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Oh, Renathal...” she gasps, immediately moving to gently wipe away his tears with her thumb as she caresses his cheek, “You know you can talk to me, I’ll always listen.”

“Don’t leave me,” he chokes out as he leans into her touch, placing his hand over her own before clutching it tightly with a sense of desperation, _“Please_...Don’t leave me too.”

“Leave you...?” She trails off, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Renathal, I would never _ever_ leave you, I love you more than anything else in all the realms, living or dead,” she says with conviction and as much sincerity as she can possibly convey through her voice and eyes, “What brought this on?”

Renathal seems to try and answer her as he opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a soft sob as he breaks down. Her mind races to piece together the puzzle as she fully sits up and swiftly takes him into her arms, rocking him soothingly back and forth and whispering sweet nothings to him as he cries.

And then it clicks.

Her anger and hatred towards Denathrius for everything he has put Renathal through reaches a boiling point, protectively tightening her hold around him as she glances at the still fading bruises on Renathal’s neck. She knew that the two most certainly must have shared affections between them, considering how intimate their relationship seemed to be before the drought based on what she’s been told, but to see how deep the wound Denathrius inflicted truly went and how terribly he has shattered her love’s heart and soul with his betrayal...

“He is a _fool_ , Renathal. An arrogant, selfish, ignorant fool!” She snaps, trying to keep her rage in check, “He was blind to not see what he had in front of him! He should have loved and cherished you every moment you were his,” she kisses the top of his head, letting him cling to her even as his grip on her arms becomes painfully tight, “Now you’re mine, and I will never let him hurt you again, I swear it. I’m in love with everything you are, Renathal. Your heart, your soul...And everything I am will always be yours. I will never leave you, sweetheart, you...you are my _soulmate_ , I know that without a shadow of a doubt-“

Lips are suddenly on hers in a desperate, deep kiss before she could even process that he had moved in her embrace, his sobs muffled between them. She immediately moves her hands to cup his face and gasps into the kiss as she is pushed back onto the bed with Renathal straddling her, trapping her beneath him.

His tongue slips into her mouth, exploring and memorizing while his hands roam from her hips, along the curve of her waist, but stop just below her chest as he waits for a sign of permission. She arches into his touch, making a needy noise into the kiss, and with that his hands are moving again as they cup her breasts, and his thumbs brush over her nipples. They break the kiss for air and Lithedia gasps, moaning as her fingers dig into his hair in response to his ministrations. Renathal growls possessively at the pleasured sounds that escape her lips and trails kisses across her jaw and down to her neck, sucking and lightly biting at the skin and occasionally teasingly dragging his fangs along its length, adrenaline and arousal rushing through her at the feeling.

“R-Renathal, please,” she whines in desperation, bucking her hips up in search of some sort of friction. He easily holds her hips down with his hands, causing her to whimper from the loss of attention to her chest.

“You’re _mine_. No one else can have you, do you understand?” He growls, his voice rough from crying and lust, and his fingers dig into her hips with a pressure she knew would leave bruises by morning, not that she cared.

“Yes! Yes, I understand, every inch of me belongs to you, my love, _please_...!” She whimpers in desperation, and her pleas are promptly answered as he kisses and sucks his way down her neck, collarbone, and chest, ensuring that the bruising marks of his love and claim over her will be visible. He takes her nipple into his mouth, being mindful of his fangs, and sucks while one hand drifts from her hip down to her arousal. He shudders as his fingers glide through her slick folds and with his thumb he rubs rhythmic circles over her clit while his index and middle finger teasingly press against her entrance, waiting again for permission.

She convulses under him at the simultaneous stimulation of her breast and clit, her sweet moans and cries increasing in volume with one hand gripping his hair and the other grasping at the sheets. She spreads her legs for him ever so slightly more, hoping that would be enough of a sign of permission as words elude her, and thankfully he takes the hint as he slips two fingers into her with ease.

He groans at the feeling of her walls clenching around his fingers as he thrusts them into her at a steady pace while continuing his ministrations to her clit with his thumb. With how much larger his hands are compared to hers, it feels like she is being penetrated already and her breathing comes fast and hard as he wind, wind, _winds_ up the pleasure coiling in her abdomen. Her mind is long gone as pleasure and lust cloud her thoughts, unable to utter a single coherent word or sentence besides his name. His free hand leaves her hip and moves down to his own prominent arousal, stroking himself in time with the pace he set for her.

Their pleasured cries and heavy breaths fill the room as they approach their peaks, Renathal abandoning his attentions to her breast in favor of moving up and capturing her lips in a deep kiss, quickening the pace for them both as desperation for release takes hold. She sobs into the kiss as she wraps her arms around his neck, her hips grinding in time with his thrusts before the coil in her abdomen finally snaps, screaming his name and her body shaking uncontrollably as she comes. He follows her over almost immediately after with her name falling from his lips like a mantra, taking her into his arms as they hold each other close through the waves of their highs.

He collapses beside her on the bed, their breathing and heartbeats beginning to slow as they gradually come down. Exhaustion washes over Lithedia again as the adrenaline leaves her body, feeling completely spent. She can barely keep her eyes open now, but she can feel Renathal pulling her up so he can pepper affectionate kisses over her face, and she laughs weakly, “Feeling better?” She mumbles, resting her forehead against his and absentmindedly running her nails lightly over the skin of his arm which causes him to shiver under her touch.

He finally presses a loving kiss to her lips, humming contently, “I am. Thank you...for loving me so unconditionally, even the parts of me that are broken. I should never have doubted you...”

She meets his eyes and smiles back at him adoringly, “You’ve been betrayed and severely hurt by someone you love, it’s understandable. All I can do is continue to show you just how deeply in love with you I am. I am entirely devoted to you,” she whispers, shutting her eyes as she buries her face in his neck.

“I love you, more than I could ever possibly convey,” his voice is breaking again, but there’s a smile on his lips now. As he closes his eyes and relishes the feeling of her small, but warm body against his, he knows that his heart is a little less broken now than it was only hours ago and where there was only emptiness before, hope has taken hold. Perhaps there is a future filled with genuine happiness and love waiting for him after all.

With _her_ _._


End file.
